


Getting Lucky

by scifishipper



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 15:02:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifishipper/pseuds/scifishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tom Zarek turns Meier’s life upside down, unexpected allies come to his rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Lucky

_Archeron Maximum Security Prison, Saggitaron_

Jan Meier grins up at Mick Crenshaw, the D-block guard with an oversized ego and a disgusting penchant for using his baton for more than breaking kneecaps. On his knees, Meier deftly wipes his mouth on his sleeve and tucks Mr. Crenshaw’s dick back into his pants. Crenshaw pats him on the head like a puppy and shoves Meier out of the guard’s room with a laugh.

Once the door slams closed, though, Meier grimaces, disgusted a the sour taste in his mouth. Ever since Tom Zarek had left their shared cell a month prior, he’d had to take matters into his own hands, ensuring his safety while the most powerful man in the prison moved in with some new bitch on cell block C. Meier’s stomach roils as he does what he has to do, nursing his broken heart and vowing revenge. He could only hope that his dalliances with Crenshaw had reached Tom’s ears. With a genuinely wicked grin, he hopes Zarek is jealous as hell. Frakker.

Meier ignores the looks from his block-mates and continues to his cell. It’s nearly lights out and he’s changing his shirt when he’s shoved hard against the bars of his cell, his face pinching against the cold metal while a hand is shoved down his pants. _Frak._ He tries to jerk away, kick or punch, to put up a fight until he hears the voice against his neck.

"I told you what would happen if I heard about you and someone else," Tom grates, his breath hot and close. The buzzer sounds and the lights flick off.

"Frak off," Meier manages, shocked. _What is he doing here?_ Meier gasps as Tom's fingers jam into his ass and his body jerks away from the pain. Tom's body presses him harder into the bars. It’s everything he hates and wants in the same moment.

"No one touches you without my permission." Tom slides another finger inside, spreading his ass, his teeth sinking into Meier's neck.

"You left me. You don’t own me," Meier gasps, trying to resist pushing back onto Tom's fingers. Pleasure spreads through him. He wants more. He's missed him so frakking much. He squeezes the bars as if that will stop his body from responding.

"I did what I had to do and you should have listened to me." Meier shudders, Tom’s familiar scent filling his nose. He can’t resist this man and finally, he relaxes back against him, feels Tom’s dick, hard and warm, sliding against his thigh. Meier's breath catches and he spreads his legs, body begging for Tom after a month of separation.

Tom's cock grazes over his flesh and Meier groans, "Please, Tom." _Please._

"Keep your frakking mouth closed and hands to yourself," Tom says, his hand covering one of Meier's around the bars. "You're mine."

Meier nods. He never wanted Crenshaw. He remembers he taste of him in his mouth and gags. "I promise," Meier whispers, his fingers threading through his lover's. All he wants is Tom.

"Good." Tom thrusts inside him then, body charging with power as he fraks him. Meier's sense blaze, every touch and sound, arching back to capture Tom's mouth for a kiss. Meier gasps as their tongues touch; he's greedy for him, fingers pulling at his hair.

"Oh, gods, Tom." His voice is a chord of longing, his body a string for Tom to pluck. He grabs at his own cock, pumping as Tom fraks him.

When they're wet and sticky, Tom's body slumps against Meier, breathing heavily. It only lasts for a moment, though, before Tom pulls away again and smacks Meier hard on the ass. "I'm watching you. Don't frak up again."

Meier glances over his shoulder, the dim nighttime floor lights showing anger etched on Tom's face, maybe regret, too, he can’t really tell. Tom leaves without another word and Meier pulls up his pants, body weak, and he slumps onto his cot.

Why does Tom twist him up this way?

:: :: ::

When Tom finds Meier next, he's in the laundry room sorting and folding huge piles of clean gray sheets and towels. He realizes that he hadn't noticed the change, how the room suddenly emptied of other prisoners, the only sound the slow rumbling hum of the dryers and the hiss of water from the other room.

He turns at the sound of the door slamming closed and Tom is there, grim and angry. With a snarl, he steps forward and punches Meier hard in the face, snapping his head back. A moment later he tastes blood and adrenaline. He meets his Tom's eyes and doesn't move. He’s been frakking around with Crenshaw again; he’s had to.

Tom hits him again, this time harder and in the gut and Meier doubles over in pain. His head spins, the black of Tom's shoes blurring in his vision. He feels like he might vomit when Tom yanks him up by the shoulders as he struggles to focus. Meier just wants everything to be the way it was before Tom left. He feels sick.

"I wasn't frakking around, Meier." Tom squeezes Meier's face hard with strong fingers. "I should break your jaw for messing around with Crenshaw. I warned you." Tom pinches his face harder, then releases him suddenly and steps back. "But I won't."

Meier lets out the breath he'd been holding and wipes at the blood trickling from his split lip. He watches Tom glance back towards the door. “Tom…I…” He can’t get the words out. Frak. Meier’s sure Tom has no idea what it’s like to have to pay for protection with your body. New anger surges inside him. Tom left him, not the other way around.

"No excuses,” Tom snaps. “I didn’t leave so you could frak around on me." Meier's surprised by the emotion in Tom's voice. More than anger.

"Then why? You didn't tell me shit. You left and I’ve got to survive." Meier nearly snarls, but mostly he’s hurting, and crosses his arms over his chest. They'd been lovers for almost a year and one frakking day Tom just told him they were through.

"I had my reasons. I told you that." Tom’s voice drops lower, their bodies almost touching, but he doesn’t offer more.

“You left me,” he repeats, hating the need in his voice. He’s never understood Tom, less so now that they’re not together anymore.

Tom gives a wry smile, shaking his head faintly, and raises his hand to touch Meier's swollen lower lip. "I don't want to hurt you, but you have to stop. You're screwing everything up." Tom's voice flickers with warning and Meier bristles again.

"Then give me a reason." Meier stares pointedly at Tom, fighting the urge to just give in. He just wants an answer.

Tom sighs and drops his hand. "No. You have to trust me. No matter what happens." Tom stares at him, his expression strange and pained, and then he turns away.

"Tom, wait." Meier feels urgency now and takes a step forward, hand out. "I trust you, I just..." His words trail off and Tom pauses. Tom has to know that he still loves him.

Without a word, Tom rushes at him and crushes their mouths together, kissing him passionately, his hands twisting in his blond hair. A long and breathless moment later, Tom ends the kiss and grabs Meier's shoulders roughly. "You'll find out soon, Meier. Just stay away from the guards. Promise me."

Meier opens his mouth to speak but he's not quite ready to cross that line, the one where he lets Tom back in again after he hurt him so much. In the end, he nods anyway. He needs to try. "Okay. Okay, I'll do it."

Tom lets out an unexpected breath. "Soon, Meier. Soon everything will be different." He touches Meier's lip again and spins away from him. A second later the door swings wide and slams shut and once more Tom is gone.

:: :: ::

Weeks later, Meier struggles against a gag in his mouth, oily and sour tasting as two men drag him handcuffed down a corridor. Through the slit at the bottom of his blindfold, he sees booted feet ahead of him as he stumbles, his bare feet jarring painfully against the grated, rough floor. They’re at the lower levels of the prison, near the hole. He wants to fight them off. He didn’t do anything wrong.

Suddenly, the dank air becomes fresh and moist and the smell of dirt and rain fills his nostrils over the oily smell of the rag in his mouth. He’s disoriented as mud squeezes between his toes, but he thinks it might be the best thing he’s ever felt in his entire life. Meier tries to grin, wants to whoop with excitement because he finally might know what’s happening. He might be free. Oh, gods, he thinks, Tom has managed to free them!

A few steps later, Meier feels his feet leave the ground as he’s lifted roughly and shoved onto a hard metal surface. A faint rumbling tells him it’s a truck of some type. The booted feet are still close and he struggles to figure things out. Tom has to be responsible; it has to be him. Where is he?

The vehicle travels for a long time, and as much as Meier tries to figure it out, it could be an hour, maybe two, he just can’t tell. When the vehicle slows to a stop, Meier’s heart pounds again and he struggles to see. The booted feet move and fresh air rushes through the vehicle door as it opens again. Meier is dragged roughly out to stand on a cold hard surface. He shivers in the frigid air and feels the cuffs at his wrists unsnap and fall away. He immediately reaches for his blindfold, but a hand stops him.

“Not yet. Count to fifty and then you can remove the blindfold. Zarek’s orders.” He doesn’t recognize the voice but he nods. Whatever it takes.

There’s motion near him, the thudding of boots retreating and the vehicle door slams. The driver guns the truck and he hears it drive away as he begins to count, his hand already working at the gag. Forty-seven, forty-six, forty-five… he throws the gag on the ground and spits, trying to clear the taste from his tongue. Not caring about the rules, he pulls at the blindfold, rubbing his eyes as he blinks in the darkness and searching for the lights of the truck. He thought he was sure of the direction, but it’s disappeared. All the moonlight reveals is a wide open field with tall grass and trees and small parking lot, its broken pavement zig-zagged with tall weeds. Behind him is a one-story structure, seeming abandoned with broken windows and faded graffiti.

He steps carefully as the moonlight reflects off of shards of broken ambrosia bottles waiting to stab through the skin of his bare feet. The door is chained closed, but rusted enough that it opens with a hard shove. Inside, it’s darker, and he stumbles over something near the door. “Frak,” he curses, and feels along the wall, finding a switch that illuminates the space with a weak light.

Old machinery litters the building, along with old bottles and things partying kids had left behind. He moves slowly, mindful of his feet, wincing when he steps on a sharp object, but senses that it doesn’t pierce the skin, so he keeps weaving through the maze of equipment, looking for a clue. At the far end of the room, he can see an empty space and he heaves a sigh. This is it.

“Tom?” His prison-sense tells him he’s alone, but Meier calls out anyway, a gasp into the dark during this bizarre turn of events. There’s no answering call and he keeps moving towards the clearing.

The light, weak this far from the single bulb by the door, casts everything in heavy shadow, but he can see a cot and he slumps gratefully down onto it. He’d been asleep only a few hours when the men blindfolded, gagged, and released him from prison. He still feels disoriented, stunned by events that he can’t explain, and needs to believe that Tom would arrive soon. How, he’d escape, too, he didn’t know; Tom Zarek’s every move had been monitored for the last twenty years.

Meier shifts to sit against the wall, tucking his feet against his body now that his rushing heart had slowed, body cooling in the cold night air. His eyes drift closed and he sleeps.

:: :: ::

The sound of scraping metal startles him awake and he jumps, disoriented, eyes darting towards the sound in the pinkish light of dawn. The events of the night rush back at him and a frightened knot forms in his throat. He scrambles off the cot and slides silently across the floor to crouch behind a dusty, broken machine.

Footsteps approach and a voices calls out. “Meier are you here? Zarek sent me.” It’s a young man’s voice and Meier glances past the chipped edge of the machine platform. He catches a glimpse of the man’s profile, with its sharp cheekbones, straight nose and a dark short-cropped hair. Looks more military than Zarek revolutionary, but Meier clears his throat. He’d find him anyway.

“Over here.” Meier stands and the man blinks over at him, face easing into a slight smile. “Where’s Tom?” Meier demands.

The man frowns deeply. “He’s not coming.”

“What do you mean? Who are you?” Meier begins to feel panic rising in his chest. “Why isn’t Tom coming?” Something has gone wrong.

“Tom’s escape didn’t go as planned.” He doesn’t say anything else and Meier blanches.

“Is he okay?” Meier asks hesitantly.

“I don’t know, Meier. We can’t get to our sources. Prison’s on total lockdown.” The man meets his eyes briefly, tucks his hands into his pockets, and rocks back on his heels.

“Frak.” Meier tries not to imagine Tom hurt, but if he got caught escaping…or if he was killed. Meier’s stomach squeezes and he shoves the thoughts out of his mind, eyes focusing on the young man in front of him. “You didn’t answer my other question. Who are you?” Meier’s bewildered and suspicious now, fingers now clamped onto the machine’s edge. He is out and Tom is still in – maybe wounded, maybe dead. Now what the frak is he going to do?

“Oh, right, sorry.” The man smiles and extends his hand. “I’m Lee Adama.”

:: :: ::

Shortly after their introduction, Lee drives them silently along the bare roads of the countryside of Saggitaron. It had snowed the night before and the glistening sheen on the trees and leaves was just beginning to burn off in the morning sun.

“When will we know about Tom? If he’s okay?” Meier is on edge, one foot tapping restlessly against the floorboards of the black truck.

Lee glances at him, face pulled down into a grimace, the only expression he seems to have. “All I know is what I told you. Maybe there will be more information when we get to Tawa. For now, just sit tight.”

“Easier said than done. I’ve just spent the last nine years in a prison cell.” Meier picks at his cuticles, a bad habit made worse with the boredom of prison.

Lee gives him a sidelong glance, but says nothing. Meier can’t shake the feeling that Lee Adama knows much more than he’s telling.

By the time they roll into the edge of Tawa, his stomach is rumbling and he needs to take a piss. He’s itching to get out of the truck and get answers. And then he’s getting the frak out of there. He’s seen the guys that get dragged back to prison, shackled and beaten, in the hole for years before they see the light of day. There’s no way he’s getting caught again. He’d die first.

Lee pulls onto a side street and down a narrow alley before he cuts the engine in front of a battered garage door, green while the rest in the long row are pale brown. “This is us,” Lee announces and opens his door. “Not much to look at, but it’ll be safe until we can find a place to put you.”

“What do you mean? Put me? I’m not getting locked up again.” Meier opens the door slowly, glancing around, poised to run.

“No, nothing like that. Tom would have my ass if they caught you again.” Meier thinks Lee is making a joke, but the man’s face is deadly serious. “And we need to get you some shoes.” Lee looks pointedly at Meier’s bare feet. “Let’s go.”

Meier follows Lee through a narrow gap between the garages and up a wooden flight of steps. Lee knocks and the door opens. A young blond woman with a wide grin greets them. “Hey, baby,” she says, touching Lee’s chest as he moves through the doorway, and then her eyes pop to Meier’s. “This him?”

Lee glances over his shoulder. “Yeah. Meier, this is my wife, Kara. Come on in.”

:: :: ::

Meier is grateful for the plate of eggs and toast, which he devours in prison style, fast and sloppy, his body attuned for attack. That instinct, honed over the years, had served him well since his conviction for fraud, tax evasion, money laundering, and prostitution nearly a decade earlier. The last one is the only charge he’d deny now, if anyone were to bother to ask, but everyone says they’re innocent in prison, so he’s just learned to accept it.

Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, Meier glances up as Lee walks into the kitchen. He’s been on the comm for almost an hour. “Any news?” Meier stands up, his anxiety keeping him from sitting still.

“Not much. The wireless is reporting your escape, but no mentions of Tom. Prison’s still on lockdown.”

Kara comes into the kitchen, drying her hair with a blue towel. “Tom’s a tough bastard. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Her tone is nonchalant and Meier gives her a quizzical look. “You’ve met him?”

Kara laughs, deep and throaty. “No, but he’s survived all these years, still speaking out against the pricks oppressing the people of Saggitaron. Yeah. He’s fine.”

Her confidence is so bright that Meier can’t help but hope, and he smiles back. He likes this Kara Thrace. “I hope so. He’s got more connections inside than you could imagine, but I’ve seen the damage those prison fraks do when someone tries to escape.” Meier glances at Lee. “Do you know how far he got before they caught him?”

Lee is shoving toast into his mouth. “No. No word.” Lee washes it down with some coffee. “I’ve got to go out.”

Kara moves towards her husband and slides her hand around his waist. They’re a handsome couple, but so strange to see after living with men for nine years. Meier glances away when she kisses Lee hard on the mouth. “Good hunting, Apollo.”

Lee gives a casual salute, his face breaking into an embarrassed smile. He nods to Meier, grabs his jacket, and heads out the door.

“Apollo?” Meier asks when Kara sets a cup of coffee on the table and sits. She seems like someone he can talk to.

She smiles, face lighting with mischief. “Lee used to be at the Fleet Academy, on Caprica, before the two of us hooked up and moved here to fight for the resistance. His callsign was Apollo, you know, the god. His classmates thought he was an arrogant ass and gave him the nickname as humble pie. True, he is a jerk sometimes, but I just bust on him with it.” Kara winks at Meier and takes a sip of coffee. “I’m pretty sure he likes it.”

Meier chuckles. “Yeah, I think so.” The two were obviously very much in love. The thought makes his heart sink a bit and his face sobers. He feels Kara’s eyes on him and he shrugs. “Well, I should grab a shower, if that’s okay. Did Lee have any luck with the shoes?”

Kara stares at him for a moment. “You know he’s probably fine, right? Tom, I mean. He gave us explicit instructions to make sure you were okay, no matter what happened to him. But my gut tells me he’s fine.”

Meier swallows, his fears coming too close to the surface and he just nods, unable to speak.

Kara springs out of her chair. “Yeah, so I’ll get you a towel. And Lee put some shoes out, I’ll get those. If they’re too big, I’ll give you a couple pairs of socks.”

Meier follows her into the other room and takes the towel and shoes. With thanks, he closes the bathroom door and steps into the shower alone for the first time in almost a decade.

:: :: ::

Meier senses the commotion on the other side of the bathroom door before he hears it and he pulls on his clothing as quickly as he can. He’s suddenly anxious and glances urgently around the small damp bathroom, finding the only window that’s too high and small to escape from. He presses his ear to the door and hears Kara’s loud voice.

“Then you have to frakking tell him. This is crap, Lee. It’s just cruel.” The _he_ has to mean him, Meier thinks, but can’t make out Lee’s words, just hears the sharp tones of his voice as he speaks.

With a loud noise, Meier pushes open the door, pretending not to hear. In prison, you learn a lot of things and being stupid is one he plays at best. “Thanks for the shower. Lee, any more news?” Meier keeps the hope out of his voice and busies himself testing the shoes on his feet. They seem to fit.

Lee glances at Kara and presses his lips together before he speaks, “We have to move you.” Kara glares at her husband and storms off towards the kitchen.

“Why?” Meier laces his shoes and glances at Lee’s stern expression.

“Orders are to move you. That’s all I can say.” Lee looks towards the sound of Kara banging dishes in the other room.

Meier follows his eyes. “Seems like ‘all you can say’ is something Kara disagrees with.” Meier trusts his gut about Lee Adama; he won’t hit him for speaking out of turn.

“Well, Kara is welcome to her opinion.” Lee grimaces and Meier thinks that’s only half true. What he really thinks is that Lee has no frakking clue what to do with his wife. She continues banging things in the kitchen, then the door slams, and Lee looks startled. “Give me a minute.” He dashes out behind her, the door slamming again.

He has no frakking clue what’s going on, but he’s not going anywhere without answers, so he sits his ass down on the sofa. He can wait.

When Kara returns without Lee a few minutes later, her face is flushed, but she’s calmer. She plops down next to him and lets out a grunt of air. “Lee’s a pain, but he’s right. There is shit going down and we can’t tell you. I want to, but I can’t. It’ll screw up everything.”

Meier shifts on the sofa and looks at her profile. “What can you tell me, because I don’t like flying blind. I’ve had enough taking orders, Kara.”

Kara turns to face him full on. “Not much. But I can tell you it’s all going to work out. I know it – right here.” She pounds her fist against her chest. “I trust my gut more than I trust anything, even Lee, and you’ve got to believe me when I say it’s going to work out. Just have to wait it out.”

Meier shakes his head. “You sound like Tom. Always telling me to wait and wait and wait. Then he pulls a stunt like this and I’m out and he’s stuck inside.” Meier shakes his head and brushes his hand over his face, feeling stubble under his palm. “I’ve trusted too much, so you’re asking a lot.”

Kara sighs. “Yeah. I get it. Trust isn’t easy to come by, but you gotta make your own decision.” Kara stands up and wipes her hands on her jeans. “I’ll leave you to it. We’ll be outside.” Kara steps over his legs and squeezes his shoulder as she passes. His eyes follow her out the door.

:: :: ::

Fifteen minutes later, Lee and Meier are back in the black truck, Kara sandwiched between them, her body more tense than he’d like for someone he’s supposed to trust. Lee drives like a man on a mission and Meier can’t help but feel like they’re on the verge of screwing him over. He trusts his gut, too, and something’s up.

When they arrive at a small air strip south of Tawa, Meier glances anxiously at Lee as he parks the truck. “What’s going on?” Airports are at the top of the list of places to avoid if you’re on the run. He’d learned his lesson the hard way when he’d tried to get off Saggitaron just before his arrest. A perky blond flight attendant had seen his face on the news and he’d been screwed.

Meier grips the door handle. “No frakking way. You’ve got to find another way.”

Kara stares at him and then slides out Lee’s side and the two of them talk heatedly at the back of the truck. Kara rounds to his side and grips the top of the half-open window. “Look, these are our instructions. Right from Tom. You don’t get on that ship, you won’t get off Saggitaron. This is your shot. You take it or your screwed.” Kara didn’t mince words, that’s for sure.

“But Tom’s not here,” Meier argues back. Everything has to have changed now. He doesn’t want to leave the planet without Tom. _Frak._ How was this frakking right?

“He was never going to be here, Meier.” Lee moves to stand next to Kara, his face its usual grim seriousness.

“What are you talking about?” Meier feels trapped and shoves the door open. “What do you mean, he was never going to be here?”

The two of them step back, eying him warily before Lee starts to explain, “The plan was never to get you and Tom off planet together. Tom told us to get you off Saggitaron, and that he was going to stay. Everything is the same.”

“No.” Meier crosses his arms over his chest. His anger makes him suspicious and he can’t think straight. Tom is screwing him.

“Meier…,” Lee starts impatiently, and Kara halts him with her hand.

Lee steps back and Kara moves closer, pinning him with her gaze. “Meier, look. I don’t know what happened to Tom and what’s gonna happen to him later, but you have a chance to get out. You have to go.”

“Where? Can you tell me that?” He’s confused and scared and after being at someone else’s mercy for so long, he needs some kind of answer.

“Canceron. Lee and I were there last year – Tom has a following. You’ll be safe there. I’ve met the resistance crew and they’re good guys. Loyal.”

Meier sits back inside the truck trying to figure out his next move. “Give me a minute, would you?” Everything was happening so fast. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he was in his cell sleeping. Now, he has a chance to get off of Sagittaron, fight for Tom’s freedom in a place where maybe it would count. Freedom for both of them is what he wants.

 _You have to trust me. No matter what happens._ Tom’s words come back to him – the strange look he gave him that day in the laundry. He’d known, hadn’t he, that things might go down this way? Meier balled his hands into fists. That was why he transferred to C-block. He never frakking intended to be set free and wanted to be clear of Meier’s escape.

Meier swallows against a knot in his throat. “Okay. I’ll go.” He steps out of the truck and closes the door behind him.

“Good luck, Meier,” Lee says, his face breaking into a rare smile. He shakes Meier’s hand and steps back, his hand hovering near Kara’s back.

“We’re coming to Canceron in a few months. We’ll find you, okay?” Kara says, and Meier nods, extending his hand to the woman. She ignores it and hugs him fast and hard. “Stay out of trouble, got it?”

Meier manages a big smile. “Got it.”

Lee hands him a wad of papers and a small duffel. “These are your papers. Doubt you’ll need them, since there’s no immigration station on Canceron, but just in case. I think you’ll recognize the name.”

Meier flips through the pages. _Marcus Inot_. Tom had remembered his favorite alias from back before he got nicked. He smiles and tucks the envelope into his jacket.

“Thank you both.”

:: :: ::

_Canceron_

Meier picks up clutter and washes the dishes in his small apartment in the Felouse neighborhood of Mangala, a seaside city near Hades. His apartment, high on a cliff overlooking the sea, makes him happy, and in the three months since he left Sagittaron, Meier’s managed to feel like a normal person, losing some of his prison habits, and slowly adjusting to a job and some easy conversation with the other resistance members.

Life on the outside is unexpectedly lonely, but he works diligently on plans for Tom’s release. Plans, he thinks excitedly, which are about to come to life once more. Lee and Kara are coming with other resistance members to put the final touches on a plan Tom’s escape from Saggitaron. Finally, Tom will be free.

As he puts the coffee pot on, he hears the familiar resistance knock and opens the door, his smile greeting a breathless and sweating Kara Thrace. “Kara, welcome,” he says, stepping aside as she bursts through the doorway.

“Nice place, but damn, what’s with all those steps? I can’t breathe.” She’s panting and he chuckles and crosses the room to open the shutters.

“This is why.” He stares out over the sea, glistening gold as the sun sets over the water.

Kara follows him and peers over the ledge of the window. “Nice. But damn, how about an elevator?” She’s not impressed, but he doesn’t care. It’s good to see a familiar face, even if they didn’t know each other all that well. At least they know his real name, and that’s come to matter more than he wants to admit.

“Hi, Meier,” Lee says, edging into the apartment, wiping his brow with a sleeve.

Lee’s reserve is such a contrast to his wife’s exuberance, and he can’t quite get a read on him, but he smiles just the same and extends his hand. The man deserves his respect. “Hi, Lee. Welcome.”

It feels good to greet someone in his home; he realizes that they’re the first ones he’s invited in. He shuts the door and offers coffee.

“So, did Kara tell you the news?” Lee asks a few minutes later as he sips his coffee. Kara and Meier had corresponded a few times and he felt like they were becoming friends.

Meier glances between them, feeling an energy about something. “No…what’s the news?”

Kara grins and takes a puff of the Hephaestus cigar Meier gave her. “We’re moving to Libran. Lee’s going to go to law school.” Kara pulls Lee’s hand to her mouth and nips his knuckles with her teeth. Lee smiles and touches her hair.

Meier leans forward, surprised. “What do you mean? What about Tom?”

Kara waves him off. “Plan’s in place. Nothing left for us to do on Saggitaron.”

Meier glance at Lee, whose expression is oddly amused. “What do you mean, a plan’s in place? That’s what you’re here for, to make the final plan.” Meier’s voice takes on a sharp edge. Something’s up.

“It’s in place. Really. Just trust me.” Kara’s grinning full on and Meier feels his anger starting to rise along with his voice.

“Someone had better tell me what the frak is going on.” Meier is standing now, looming over Kara, and Lee stands, too.

“Calm down, Meier. You’ve got it all wrong.” Lee’s voice is less sharp than usual, but commanding nonetheless.

“Okay, but what’s the plan –“ A sharp rap on the door startles Meier and he glances towards the door. “Who the frak is that? Did you invite someone here? I told you no one else.” Meier’s heart races, suspicion growing. None of this makes any sense.

He jerks open the door, face falling slack as he sees Tom standing on the landing, dark hair tousled in the wind, a duffel slung over one shoulder.

“Tom?” Meier is stunned for a moment, and then he turns around, throwing accusing looks at Lee and Kara. “You knew about this and you dicked me around?”

Tom’s deep voice intrudes, “It was on my orders. Can I come in?”

Meier’s gaze snaps to Tom’s again, taking him in. His face is tan, body leaner than he remembers. He’s been out a while, Meier realizes. “Sure.” Meier feels his skin prickle with outrage and he avoids Tom’s eyes.

Lee and Kara stand from the table. “I guess this is where we say goodbye. We’ll be in town a few more days. Tom, you know where to find us.” Meier ignores the pair as they pass between him and Tom.

“Thanks, Lee. Kara.” Tom nods to the pair of them and closes the door after they’ve gone.

Meier watches as Tom casually drops his duffel on a kitchen chair. Meier’s tone is an accusation, “What are doing here? You’ve been out and no one told me. What game are you playing now, Zarek?” It’s an insult to call him by his last name alone, and he does it with relish.

“I know you’re pissed, but it had to be done this way.”

“What had to be done this way? Keeping me in the dark for months? What the frak happened?” Meier’s getting impatient with Tom’s vague answers.

“I’ll fill you in later, I promise, but I needed to know you were clear before I… before I could see you again.” Meier hears Tom’s plaintive tone, but resolutely keeps his eyes staring at the floor. He knows eventually he won’t be angry, but right now it stings.

Meier's tone is quiet, hurt. “First I thought you were dead. Then I knew you weren’t dead, but thought you were still locked up. And it looks like you’ve been out for weeks, maybe longer.” He can't even look at him.

Tom steps forward, hands clasped in front of him, and Meier feels the speech coming, the one where Tom tells him the truth after a big lie. He’s done it before. “That night when they took you out, I wanted to see you then, run off and just come here, wing it, do whatever it took, but I made a plan and I had to see it through.”

“Wait, you got out that night, too?” Meier finally just glares at him and crosses his arm over his chest.

“Yeah. Went south to a village near the volcano. It was winter, so it was deserted and no one bothered me. Lee and his crew worked to get you off Sagittaron. Once I knew that happened, then I put the rest of my plan into place. You had to be safe first. Don’t you get that?” Tom takes another step forward, close enough that Meier can smell his aftershave.

“I get it.” Meier says, tone clipped. “I just don’t know why you never trust me with these plans before you roll them out. I don’t know why I have to trust you, but it doesn’t go both ways.”

Tom pauses and then shrugs. “Old habits die hard, I guess. Maybe that’s something I can work on. Now that I’m here. I’m staying on Canceron. Staying here, if you’ll have me. Or another place, bigger, or I can get my own place, or whatever you want.”

Meier finally looks at Tom, sees the indecision, so rare on his face, and lets himself feel the relief of seeing the man he loves. “There’s only one bed here,” he says, reaching out his hand and laying it on Tom’s clasped hands.

Tom grabs his fingers and pulls him close. “Then this is exactly right for us.”

Meier hesitates one last time, unwilling to meet his eyes, frightened of what it really means to be with Tom outside the rules of a prison, outside their tiny cell. It feels complicated and terrifying, but he wants a chance at it. Really, it’s all he’s wanted for a very long time.

“Okay,” Meier finally says, voice breathless. Tom pulls him into a tight embrace and he hugs him back, his body shaking with relief.

They’re finally free.  



End file.
